Something about the sight of a listing staircase, glimpsed for a moment through an open door, or lit up, through a window at night. Sometimes you might have predicted the shift, but at other times its looks come as a surprise, a secret hidden behind its building's prim, upright facade. There's something intimate in catching it like this, dressed in linoleum & settling into old age, and I'm filled with affection. This city of ours.
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